Archive for the ‘Samantha Sang’ Category
This isn’t a disco song, but it calls up another disco-era memory. When I was ten years old, my parents and I spent a month in central California visiting extended family in Fresno and in towns nearby, Sanger and Madera—the trip, my first across country, was so exciting that these place names took on a kind of music in my mind. One evening, my Uncle Lee and Aunt Anna, who weren’t really my aunt and uncle but some kind of cousins of my father’s—when I was that age, I was told to call most adults who weren’t my parents “aunt” and “uncle”—held a backyard barbecue to celebrate our arrival. After dinner—grilled hot dogs, or “tube steak,” as Lee kept calling it—the kids sat in front of the TV watching a disco-themed special. Samantha Sang sang “Emotion.” We all laughed at her name. Samantha did what? She sang. Later that night, Lee drove my father and I to a nearby airstrip where he kept a small plane, and he took us up for a ride above the town. Someone I knew owning a plane—I never imagined such a thing was possible. Up in the air, Uncle Lee pointed down through the night sky at his house, where we had just been, and where the rest of the family was watching us and waiting, my mother surely with her heart in the throat.